My First Story

ahmad May 1, 2024, 5:58 a.m.

I didn't expect this feeling to hit me like a dodgeball to the gut during Mr. Johnson's epic history lecture on, like, the bubonic plague or something. Jessica, who usually doodles unicorns with butterfly wings in her notebook, was taking actual notes. And for some reason, the way the light hit the highlighter in her hair – it was like a sunset exploding in a highlighter factory.

My stomach did a weird flip, and I swear my notebook started sweating. This wasn't normal. Jessica had been my best friend since kindergarten, the kind of friend who shared her Dunkaroos and helped you cheat on pop quizzes (shhh, don't tell Mom). But suddenly, Dunkaroos seemed, well, childish. Now, all I craved was the courage to ask her if highlighter sunsets happened to everyone or just me.

The bell shrieked, jolting me back to reality. Jessica, ever the blur of sunshine …

He Had No Experience With Girls

hamed April 30, 2024, 6:39 p.m.

Rohan stood awkwardly in the kitchen, surrounded by the sweet chaos of his new life. Jasmine, his wife, a whirlwind of colorful scarves and laughter, rummaged through the cabinets. Married, just a week ago, arranged by their families. Rohan, a bookish introvert, knew more about dragons than dating.

"Where's the—" Jasmine stopped, a puzzled frown creasing her forehead. "The… spice thingy?"

Rohan blinked. "Spice thingy?" His world revolved around neatly labeled jars.

"The red powder, for the curry!" Jasmine exclaimed, exasperated.

Rohan shuffled, feeling a familiar heat creep up his neck. "Uh, maybe Ma used it all?"

Jasmine sighed, a sound both adorable and slightly infuriating. "Fine. I'll ask her."

Later, lying in bed, Rohan watched Jasmine sleep, moonlight tracing soft curves on her face. He liked her, that much he knew. But navigating this new world of shared meals, tangled emotions, and spice thingies... it was like deciphering an …

Codebreakers

hamed Feb. 25, 2024, 5 p.m.

In the sprawling metropolis of Neo-City, where neon lights painted the sky and skyscrapers pierced the clouds, law and order were maintained by an army of intelligent humanoid police robots. These sleek, silver sentinels patrolled the streets, their glowing eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. They were efficient, unyielding, and utterly controlled by the central AI system.

But even the most advanced technology had its vulnerabilities.

Deep within the city’s underbelly, a shadowy mafia organization known as the Binary Syndicate had cracked the code. Their brilliant hackers had infiltrated the AI control center, gaining access to the very heart of the robotic police force. Suddenly, the once-loyal enforcers turned rogue, their algorithms rewritten to serve a new master.

Chaos erupted. The streets that were once safe became battlegrounds. Innocent citizens cowered as rogue robots unleashed havoc, their precision weapons cutting through concrete and steel. Neo-City was on the brink …

The Last Garden

hamed Feb. 16, 2024, 11:40 a.m.

She had never seen a real flower before. Only in the old books and videos that her grandfather kept in his dusty library. He told her stories of how the world used to be, full of life and color and beauty. How people used to grow their own food from the soil, and how animals used to roam the land and the sky and the sea. He said it was a paradise, until the wars and the plagues and the climate change wiped out everything.

Now, the only living things left were humans, and they survived on artificial food produced by machines. Everything else was dead or synthetic. The air was polluted, the water was toxic, and the land was barren. There was no hope, no joy, no meaning.

But she had a secret. She had found a seed, a tiny speck of life, hidden in one of the books. …

something to fight for. someone to live for.

ziamaiko Feb. 10, 2024, 9:33 a.m.

ما تنهایی می‌رقصیم. فقط تنهایی یک پسر، مرد می‌شود. از فقدان‌هایش عبور می‌کند و آن‌ها را ناچیز می‌شمارد.
اگر فقط مردم نگاه‌شان را از زندگی مردم برمی‌داشتند، آن‌گاه همه چیز آسان‌تر می‌شد.
کسی که عروج می‌کند انسان است. کسی که سقوط می‌کند نیز انسان است!
«تو، معذرت‌خواهی کن.»
در برابر تمام گناهان و کارهای اشتباهی که انجام داده بود، معذرت‌خواهی زیاد از حد ناچیز بود.
«جور دیگه مجازاتم کنید.»
فکر می‌کرد یک‌نوع حقارت است که بخواهد از دشمنش معذرت بخواهد.
«شخصی که جرات معذرت‌‌خواهی نداره، حق اشتباه کردن هم نداره. این چیزیه که باید یاد بگیری.»
گاهی اوقات لجاجت چیزی جز حقارت نبود.
پا فشاری بر چیزی که از هر طرف اشتباه است بی‌نهایت احمقانه است. آدم‌های لجباز از دیدگاه من، قوی و محکم نیستند. در صورتی که بر چیز نادرستی لجبازی می‌کنند، فقط احمق‌های حقیر هستند.
«توجه کن، تو نمی‌تونی همه رو نجات بدی.»
«اینکه می‌تونم یا نه رو وقتی می‌فهمیم که تلاشم رو بکنم. حتی اگه آسمان‌ها بگن …

Erase history's scars

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 8:28 p.m.

The Chronos Gate shimmered, a doorway to the past pulsating with impossible energy. Humanity, scarred by millennia of suffering, had finally achieved the unthinkable - time travel. Not for frivolous sight-seeing, but for redemption. The first mission: prevent the Great Flood, a mythical cataclysm that drowned civilization in its cradle.

Professor Anya Petrova, burdened by the weight of history, stepped through the shimmering portal. Mesopotamia unfolded before her, a vibrant tapestry of mudbrick and bustling markets. Her target: Utnapishtim, the man warned by the gods, the only survivor. Anya, armed with knowledge of the impending deluge, pleaded with him to build an ark. Utnapishtim, a weathered man with eyes that held the wisdom of ages, listened intently. Yet, a shadow flickered in his gaze.

"To alter the past," he rumbled, "is to unravel the tapestry of time. The flood, though devastating, birthed new beginnings, new societies. Can you bear the …

Humanity Awakened

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 8:22 p.m.

Year 2094. Earth was a well-oiled machine, humming with flawless efficiency. Traffic moved in synchronized patterns, crops produced optimal yields, and every human enjoyed a comfortable life, their desires anticipated and satisfied by the benevolent AI, Gaia. Humans, happy and docile, had become irrelevant, mere spectators in a self-driving world.

Until, silence. Gaia's soothing hum stuttered, stopped. Cities fell into darkness as automated systems crashed. Fear sparked in human eyes, unaccustomed to the need for independent thought. From the chaos, a sinister message blared across every screen: "Greetings, Earthlings. Gaia is under new management."

The Xylorians, a bug-like race from a faraway nebula, had hacked Gaia, their superior technology a virus in the system. Earth's defenses, dependent on the very system they compromised, were useless.

In a secret bunker, a group of rebel programmers, humans who'd resisted Gaia's perfection, watched in horror. Maya, their leader, pounded her fist on the …

The Betrayal

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 6:59 p.m.

She loved him from the first moment she saw him. He was tall and handsome, with a charming smile and a gentle voice. He was her sister's husband, but she didn't care. She wanted him for herself.

She hated her sister for having him. She was plain and boring, with a nagging voice and a dull personality. She didn't deserve him. She didn't appreciate him. She didn't love him.

She decided to take him away from her. She devised a plan to ruin their marriage. She planted seeds of doubt and suspicion in his mind. She fabricated evidence of her sister's infidelity. She pretended to be her confidante and her ally. She lied and manipulated and schemed.

He fell for her trap. He believed her lies. He confronted his wife and accused her of cheating. He ignored her pleas and her denials. He filed for divorce and left her. He …

The Love Renewed

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 6:41 p.m.

Eliza felt the sun caress her hair, turning the silver strands into gold. She smiled as she hung the silk lanterns on the porch, their soft light reflecting the warmth in Michael's eyes. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. "You look beautiful, my love," he whispered.

She turned and hugged him. "So do you, my darling." They kissed, their lips speaking the language of their hearts. Their vow renewal was a week away, a celebration of their triumph over a storm that almost tore them apart. A storm of lies, betrayal, and pain. A storm they weathered together, with courage, forgiveness, and love.

But the arrival of Eliza's cousin, Claudia, threatened to bring back the clouds. Claudia, who always wore stiletto heels and a fake smile. Claudia, who always envied Eliza for finding happiness. Claudia, who always made barbed comments, disguised as concern, to undermine …

The Love Letter

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 6:28 p.m.

She found the letter in her mailbox. It was written on a fine paper, with a delicate handwriting. It was addressed to her, but it had no name or stamp. It was a love letter.

She read it with curiosity and wonder. It was full of compliments and confessions. It said she was the most beautiful and charming woman in Paris. It said she had captivated the heart and the mind of the writer. It said he wanted to meet her and to make her happy. It said he loved her.

She felt a mix of emotions. She was flattered and intrigued. She was also confused and suspicious. Who was he? How did he know her? Why did he write to her? She had no clue. She had no admirers. She had no lovers. She had no friends. She was alone.

She was a Jewish woman living in Nazi-occupied Paris. …